At the very least I would expect some modicum of curiosity, steel manning or openness to the opposing position.
Did you even read the article? She wasn't allowed to ask questions. (The mother is a psychologist, as she mentions in part 1, so that's what she's referring to when she talks about her 'professional life'.)
Healthcare carries a particular moral meaning for me. I have spent my own professional life believing that clinicians should be curious, cautious, thoughtful about complexity, empirical, and alert to the possibility that the first explanation for suffering may not be the best or whole explanation. I believe those ethical obligations were not only not fulfilled but violated, and so I don’t experience it merely as disagreement. I experience it as betrayal.
That is where sadness becomes anger. I was barely allowed to express concerns, let alone ask too many questions. I pleaded for time and reflection, but I could not investigate. Ultimately, I had no control. She is a young adult. The decisions belonged to her and the medical doctors.
And eventually even my questions became part of the indictment against me. And that may be the cruelest paradox of all. The instincts that had constituted motherhood for almost two decades - to notice, question, protect, investigate and worry - were now interpreted as evidence that I was “unsafe”.
I found myself in an impossible bind. To remain close, I felt I had to stop asking the questions or expressing the concerns I believe a mother ought to.